


Sock It To Me

by peregrinefalcon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A little, Auror Harry Potter, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Healer Draco Malfoy, I basically wrote this on a dare, M/M, PoC Harry, Socks, but like it kind of in between the lines, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7536220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peregrinefalcon/pseuds/peregrinefalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late one evening (though technically early one morning), Draco Malfoy discovers that he has a thing for knee socks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sock It To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my friend Tiffany for beta-ing!

The door clicked shut behind him as Draco led it to its frame. He shed his coat and hung it on one of the neatly lined up hooks on the wall. As he bent down, pushing his index finger into the heel of his shoes and sliding them off, he noticed a pair of muddy boots haphazardly discarded next to where he was currently standing. So that meant that Harry was in.

 

Well, it certainly pleased him that Harry had returned from his assignment earlier than Draco had expected, although he was still slightly irate at the boots dirtying up his diligently scrubbed floors. He meant to give Harry a stern talking to later, after a nice, long, uninterrupted duration of sleep, because as much as he’d love to remind Harry that this was _Draco’s_ flat and so he had to play by _Draco’s_ rules, a Healer’s working hours were brutal and he was really looking forward to descend into unconsciousness before the bloody sun came up.

 

Despite Harry’s less than ideal behaviour, Draco took pains to be extra quiet as he walked to his bedroom. After all, it was nearly four in the morning, and Harry was probably exhausted from the three day mission he’d returned from, and deserved a good night’s sleep. Also, Draco had no intention of dealing with a sleep-deprived Harry in the morning.

 

His room was at the far end of the corridor that stretched forward from the door. Draco kept his eyes on the door as his hand twisted the doorknob and gently nudged the door open, and his eyes stayed on the door as he closed it behind him.

 

“Oh, you’re home,” a voice observed. Draco turned to face it. Harry had just slipped out of his dirty field operation robes, which were slumped in a grey puddle on the floor. Draco couldn’t resist wrinkling his nose a bit.

 

“You’re still awake?” Draco began undoing the buttons down the front of his Healer robes. He shrugged them off and draped them over a nearby chair and began pulling off his socks. “It’s nearly four in the morning,” he stated. “Frankly, if I had known that you were coming here so late, I’d have expected you to have just passed out on the front door step.”

 

“I’m an Auror, not some kind of lout, Malfoy,” Harry defended himself. Draco raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “And besides, it’s not like they don’t let me sleep when I’m out in the field. I’m only back late because debriefing took a while.”

 

“If only St. Mungo’s would take a page the Ministry’s book and grant Healers more reasonable hours,” Draco groused as he pulled his undershirt over his head. “I’ve been up for sixteen hours and feel like a walking corpse.”

 

“You look it, too.”

 

“Oh shut _up_.”

 

Harry laughed and leaned over to kiss Draco’s cheek. “I missed you. And your complaining.”

 

Draco let out an amused snicker. “Does that _do_ anything for you?”

 

“When it’s you, yes. I can’t stand it when other people whine to me, it’s frankly annoying.”

 

“Double standard much.”

 

Harry smiled fondly at Draco and threw his arms around Draco’s neck. “Not that I’m complaining,” Draco clarified with a smirk. Harry’s arms pulled Draco forward and Draco leaned in to kiss Harry. “I missed you too,” he said a little belatedly as he put his hands on Harry’s hips. “You’re back earlier than I had expected.”

 

“That’s because I do my job well,” Harry said smugly.

 

Draco’s fingers slid beneath the hem of Harry’s t-shirt. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No, I was careful this time.” He shot a pointed look at Draco. “After what _you_ did the last time I was injured in the field.”

 

Draco snorted as he pulled the shirt over Harry’s head. “You’re acting as if I overreacted that time. May I remind you that you are my _boyfriend_ and I am therefore _entitled_ to, I don’t know, _give a toss about your general well-being_.”

 

“You didn’t just ‘give a toss about my general well-being,’” Harry gestured with air quotes, “You confined me to my goddamned flat for three days.” He shot Draco a look that said, _isn’t that a little too much_?

 

“Potter, I’d like to remind you that _I’m_ the Healer here, and that _I’m_ aware of which treatment works best for you.”

 

“You could have just dropped me off at St. Mungo’s when you went to work, though,” Harry countered, “But instead _you_ called in _sick_ \- can a Healer even _get_ sick -” “Yes.” “- For three days and took on the role of my personal _jailer_ instead.”

 

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry in a glare. “Well I’m sorry for _caring_ , Harry.”

 

“Aw, you care about me, how sweet,” Harry put a hand on Draco’s cheek and simpered in mock emotion, his green eyes stewing with disgusting tenderness behind thick glasses.

  
“You’re living in _my_ flat right now, of course I care about you,” Draco rolled his eyes. “And on the topic of this being _my_ flat, please keep your filthy boots off my floor. I have a shoe rack for a _reason_ , you know.”

 

Now it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re _such_ a neat freak, you know. At least I remembered to take my shoes off.”

 

“That’s not an accomplishment. Will you do it or must I use physical coercion?”

 

“Yes, fine, I’ll do it.”

 

“Great. You’ll also scrub the floors tomorrow.”

 

“Draco!”

 

“I’m not in the mood to argue. All I want to do is to take a quick shower and then go to sleep.” He raised his arms above his head and stretched his back, then quickly flopped forward in exhaustion.

 

“Fine,” Harry grumbled as he undid his trousers and pulled them off.

 

Draco realised that he was staring only when Harry looked up at him in confusion.

 

“Draco, is something wrong?”

 

“You’re wearing knee socks,” Draco managed to articulate his observation in a somewhat dazed voice.

 

“Well, I hate it when my socks roll down my ankle in my field boots, so I figured that knee socks would hold up … so whenever I’m on an active mission, I wear knee socks.”

 

“Merlin,” Draco muttered to himself. If he had known that _this_ is what an active field operation entailed, he probably wouldn’t have complained so much when Harry said that he was going to be gone for a few days on one.

 

Harry smirked at him. “Does this _do_ anything for you?” He turned, slowly and deliberately, in a circle.

 

Draco hoped that his rapt silence was an answer enough. His eyes glided over Harry, over his familiar, svelte figure, over the compression shorts that really hid nothing, and most of all, over Harry’s lean calves, wrapped in white knee socks that contrasted pleasantly with Harry’s dusky skin.

 

“You suddenly don’t look so tired anymore,” Harry continued smirking as he walked towards Draco. He laid his hands on Draco’s pale chest and shoved him against the wall, green eyes hard against Draco’s grey ones.

 

Draco dug his fingers into Harry’s biceps, turned them around, and pushed Harry against the wall. He let go of Harry’s arms and threaded his fingers roughly through Harry’s hair. Harry smirked as his hands found Draco’s hips. His thumbs rubbed against the prominent bone of Draco’s ilium. His eyes were still fixed on Draco’s, glinting with challenge.

 

 _I’ll wipe that smirk off his face_ , Draco thought as he growled and lunged forward to press his lips against Harry’s. He could hear Harry groaning against him and his mouth slipping open under Draco’s insistent tongue. Harry’s glasses pushed against Draco’s cheekbone but he didn’t care. He nearly forgot how much he missed _this_ part of Harry.

 

As Draco’s mouth moved steadily down Harry’s face to press kisses against his neck, Harry’s hands nimbly unfastened Draco’s trousers. Draco felt his impatience growing as Harry’s fingers brushed against the zipper, and traced Harry’s jawline with a brutal tongue. Harry must have felt it, since he snickered as he pushed the trousers as well as Draco’s pants off Draco’s hips.

 

Draco pressed himself more assertively against Harry as he stepped out of his trousers and underthings and kicked him aside. It was his turn to smirk as he listened to Harry breathe out his name against his ear. He rolled his hips against Harry’s and was wickedly pleased with himself to find Harry’s own restlessness pressing against Draco’s eagerness.

 

Harry’s tongue found one of the thin, blanched scars on Draco’s body that licked up the side of his neck. Although he had confessed to feeling apologetic about it the first time he saw them, Draco could feel a possessive undercurrent that permeated Harry’s outwardly apologetic attitude, and this territorial trait of Harry’s pleased Draco endlessly.

 

“Merlin, Potter,” Draco hissed as Harry’s heavy tongue found a smaller scar that brushed against Draco’s cheekbone. Draco’s white fingers fisted in Harry’s dark hair as he pulled Harry’s mouth away from his face. His hands left Harry’s hair and gripped Harry’s shoulders instead. He kissed Harry violently again, trying to convey the urgency that was pulling himself closer to Harry, as he spun them around again and started pushing Harry towards the bed.

 

He heard Harry’s knees hit the bed with a dull _thump_ and pushed Harry down with a hand on his chest. Harry sat up on the bed looked at him expectantly through glasses askew. Draco planted his knees to either side of Harry’s thighs and placed his hands back on Harry’s shoulders.

 

Almost frantically, Harry removed his glasses, folded them up, and laid them on the bedside table. His hands ran up the sides of Draco’s ribs as Draco leaned down to kiss him again. Harry let Draco push him down onto the bed. Draco hooked his fingers into the waistband of Harry’s shorts, but they proved difficult to remove.

 

“I hate these pants,” he griped as he tried to tug them off Harry.

 

“They’re easy to move around in and besides, they make my arse look amazing in that uniform,” Harry explained in a smug voice.

 

“Fuck it,” Draco grumbled as he bent down to kiss Harry again and Vanished the compression shorts.

 

Harry pushed him off in surprise. “Did you just _Vanish the pants off me_?”

 

Draco snorted. “Well, what does it look like?”

 

“You realise that you could have, I don’t know, Vanished _more_ than _just_ pants off me -”

 

“I’m a Healer, Harry, I have to Vanish clothing off people on a daily basis,” Draco rolled his eyes. “You know how much time that saves? Relax, I know what I’m doing. Besides,” he shot Harry a sly look, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like that.”

 

Harry looked to the side, his face tinged with embarrassment. “Alright, I’ll admit, that was hot.”

 

Draco smirked. “There you go.” He leaned down to kiss Harry again. It was apparent that they were both straining with agitation at this point. Draco pressed his lips against Harry’s temple as he rolled his hips against Harry’s and their joint impatience subsided a little. “Oh _fuck_ ,” Draco swore under his breath as Harry groaned.

 

Harry’s legs wrapped more firmly around Draco, and Draco could feel the soft knit of the socks brush against his bare skin. “ _Salazar_ ,” he hissed. It was almost embarrassing how much that did it for him. He felt himself dripping with anticipation at feeling that again, and roughly ground himself against Harry.

 

Harry’s head fell back against the pillow, mouth open in a soundless cry. Draco pressed his face against Harry’s neck, breathing in salty exertion and musty warmth as he continued to stoke Harry’s desperation.

 

“Draco,” Harry huffed out by his ear as his fingers curled against Draco’s chest and he arched against him.

 

“Shit, _Harry_ ,” Draco felt his increasing frustration curl around his gut. He shoved himself insistently against Harry, eliciting a very illicit-sounding noise that encouraged Draco to repeat his movement … Draco smirked as he thought, _more slowly_. He dragged himself against Harry’s hips deliberately, keeping constant pressure against Harry’s keen _want_ , as if he wanted to burst a bubble as slowly as he can, pressing his finger against its surface to see how much tension it can take before it gave in and blew up.

 

Harry’s legs scrabbled against Draco’s body, the fabric skidding off Draco’s skin. Draco felt a socked calf brush against his backside and redoubled his efforts, restlessly driving against Harry, the momentum easing the impatient itch of their titillation. “I fucking hate you,” Harry said as he pushed back against Draco. “The feeling is mutual,” Draco smirked as he bore down to engage Harry in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

 

“By _Godric_ ,” Harry muttered, “If I knew what these socks would do to you, I would have worn them earlier.” His legs pressed tightly against Draco, trapping him against Harry. Draco felt the warm sweep of the socks against his lower back as Harry used his feet to press himself up against Draco and pull Draco down against him.

 

“To be fair,” Draco breathed, “I didn’t know how affected _I_ would be until I saw _you_ in them.”

 

The constant touch of Harry’s socked legs was slowly driving Draco insane. “You’re slowly driving me insane,” Draco said as he moved, purposefully brushing himself against the soft socks. His impatience was practically bubbling inside him, even though he and Harry had relieved a fair amount of slick tension between them already, making their joint effort a smoother operation.

 

“Draco, _please_ ,” Harry said in a voice that sounded like it was trying very hard not to beg. It wasn’t very successful. Draco’s hand snaked southward from its previous location next to Harry’s ear, where it fisted the bed sheet. After all, he was a very obliging boyfriend. His hand found Harry palpitating and hot from eagerness, practically straining against Draco’s touch.

 

Very pleased with himself, he let his mouth follow his hand, laying a trail of messy kisses down Harry’s slender neck and svelte torso. He felt Harry’s fingers weaving through his fine pale hair urgingly.

 

Draco’s mouth stilled when he reached Harry’s acute distress, which he held in his hand. Looking up, he found Harry very much hot and bothered, his face and chest flushed, those wonderful legs parted for him, toned calves still sheathed in socks, and feet digging into the mattress impatiently. “Quit fucking around,” Harry tried to glare at him. “Malfoys don’t fuck around,” Draco smirked at him, letting his mouth fall open and tongue dart forward, licking a soothing stripe up Harry’s restlessness.

 

It didn’t sound quite so soothing, as Harry let out a high noise and arched upwards, seeking Draco’s touch. His legs seem to just ever so slightly close around Draco, who could feel the heat of Harry’s thighs against his face. “You’re _so_ eager,” Draco intoned lazily, amusedly, as he licked Harry again and was rewarded with a groan.

 

“You started it,” Harry said with difficulty. His hands fisted more uncomfortably in Draco’s hair. “Shut up and keep doing what you’re doing.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“Like I said, shut u- _uh_ ,” Harry groaned again when Draco wrapped his lips around Harry’s avidity, trying to suck the gnawing agitation out of him. “ _Oh fuck_ ,” Harry could only manage as Draco’s tongue prodded and smoothed over him, as if trying to figure out what’s got him in such an excited state. _As if he doesn’t know_ , Harry snorted to himself in his mind.

 

Draco’s own impatience was rapidly intensifying, hanging heavily as he pulled at Harry’s. He ground his hips into the mattress in an attempt to mollify its demanding nature, but it only served to make him feel more feverish and desperate. His own turmoil reflected in his treatment of Harry’s, and Draco found himself becoming increasingly hasty and aggressive. Not that Harry minded, judging from his rough treatment of Draco’s hair and approving cries.

 

Harry’s toes curled around Draco, his socked feet brushing against Draco’s ribs. “ _Merlin_ fuck, Draco, I-” Draco could feel Harry’s pleasurable torment swell like waves pulled by moonlight, and gave a desperate suck that sent it all crashing against the shore, over and over, the salty seawater lapping against Draco.

 

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Harry managed to pant out as he eased himself up on his forearms.

 

“I know,” Draco smirked smugly as he licked his lips. Harry groaned again. “Come here,” he gestured at Draco, who pushed himself up onto his knees and inched towards Harry.

 

“Allow me to return the favour,” Harry smiled as he took Draco’s arm and dragged him closer. He put his hands on Draco’s hips again and rubbed against his skin again as Draco let his arms drape over Harry’s shoulders. Harry leaned forward and took Draco’s vexingly persistent ardor, which was practically weeping to be taken care of, into his mouth. Draco’s hands immediately went to Harry’s head, and his fingers twined into the messy black waves.

 

“ _Salazar’s serpent_ ,” Draco breathed as Harry’s tongue brushed against him, quick as an adder’s fork.

 

Harry’s legs drew up, his covered knees and calves pressed against Draco’s thigh and his socked toes rubbed against Draco’s ankles. “Oh this is too much,” the words tumbled out of Draco’s mouth, slack-jawed in pleasure. He distractedly thrust into Harry’s mouth, lost in the hot, slick sensation that only served to send a jolt of feverish restlessness up his spine, and the drag of the socks against his skin.

 

Harry’s tongue licked up Draco’s stiff agitation, only to still and fall to the bottom of his jaw, inviting Draco to fuck into his mouth. And that Draco did, while Harry’s hands wandered away from Draco’s hips to his arse, adroit fingers following the cleft of Draco’s bum, until they found that small dip to rub against, coaxing small, broken noises from Draco’s throat.

 

“ _Harry_ ,” Draco whispered in an embarrassingly high voice, unsure whether to push back onto Harry’s fingers or forward into Harry’s mouth. Harry looked up at Draco, green eyes clear and dark, full of earnestness. It shot through Draco like a _Lumos_ through the dark - soft, conquering, and unrelenting. Draco instantly felt his restlessness melting away with a groan, flowing away into the night in a silver stream.

 

While Draco was still staring at him dazedly, Harry’s hands left Draco’s body and moved to roll the knee socks off his legs. Draco’s hands darted forward to stop him. “Allow me,” he said quietly. He pulled the sock off both Harry’s leg and stared at the mark that the elastic left beneath Harry’s knees. He bent down to lick around the indented skin. “Ugh, you’re such a weirdo,” Harry giggled. “And you’re gorgeous,” Draco retorted with a smile.

 

Gently, Harry pulled Draco up gently to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I can’t lie, I missed that when I was away,” He threaded his fingers through Draco’s silver locks gently now, brushing the hair away from his face and tucking strands behind Draco’s ear. The words _I must not tell lies_ stood out starkly against his dark skin.

 

“Likewise,” Draco snorted as he lightly swatted Harry’s hand away and rolled to Harry’s side, and rested his head against Harry’s shoulder. “What time is it now?” He closed his eyes.

 

Harry picked up his glasses and shoved them up his face again to look at the grandfather clock standing at the other end of Draco’s room. “It’s nearly five in the morning,” Harry read with a frown.

 

Draco’s eyes flung open. “Fuck!” He looked frantically at the window, and saw soft royal blue outside instead of pitch black. “I hoped to be asleep before the sun came up,” he groaned as he sunk into his pillow sulkily. “And I have to be up tomorrow at eight.”

 

“You could always call in sick,” Harry suggested as he put his glasses on the bedside table and slid under the covers with Draco.

 

“I’m a _Healer_ , Potter.”

 

“Healers get sick, too. Besides, I’ve got tomorrow off.”

 

“ _You have tomorrow off_?? What kind of unjust society do we live in?”

 

“What can I say, it’s my holiday after a field mission.”

 

“Fuck you Aurors.”

 

“Honestly, call in sick. Spend the day with me.” Harry’s hand traced circles onto Draco’s back.

 

“ _Harry_.”

 

“Please.” Harry kissed the shell of Draco’s ear lightly.

 

Draco grumbled unhappily. “ _Fine_. But I should not make a habit of it.”

 

“I don’t expect you to,” Harry grinned at him triumphantly, although he hoped that Draco would.

 

“And you’re not getting off easy,” Draco scowled at him, “You’re still up to scrub the floor tomorrow, and I’m definitely not doing your laundry for you this time, so you better do that too.”

 

“I will, I promise.” Harry smiled as he kissed the tip of Draco’s nose.

 

“Oh, and one more thing,” he raised a single index finger at Harry.

 

“Anything,” Harry kissed the tip of Draco’s finger.

 

“You have to wear those socks around the flat all day tomorrow.”

 

Harry burst out laughing. “Merlin’s beard, Draco, you are _weird_.”

 

Draco pressed a smiling kiss against Harry’s laughing mouth. “Let’s go to sleep. If we don’t go to sleep soon I’ll never wake up tomorrow.”

 

“Fine,” Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and nestled his head between Draco’s neck and shoulder.

 

“Goodnight, Harry.”

 

“Goodnight, Draco.”

  
Only when Draco was drifting off to sleep when he realise that one of the legs entwined with his was still wearing a knee sock.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never really written smut before, so please bear with me if this is really weird, haha. I was dared to write it because the common conception amongst my friends is that I don't write smut :P
> 
> If you'd like, you can say hi to me on saladtsar.tumblr.com


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